


Thanks, dad

by mllelouise



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Gets Hurt, First Kiss, M/M, Stiles worries, and the Sheriff is awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 01:50:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3877810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mllelouise/pseuds/mllelouise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written after reading <a href="http://athenadark.tumblr.com/post/117778620505/theartfuljackdawkins-i-need-a-moment-like">this post</a> with "thanks mom" from Derek to Melissa, I wanted to do the "thanks, dad" version with Derek and Sheriff Stilinski.</p>
<p>beta reading by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/laduchessederat">La Duchesse d'Erat</a></p>
<p>
  <a href="http://theladyandthewolves.tumblr.com/post/118145908618/thanks-dad">find it on tumblr</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanks, dad

Another day, another wolsfbane’s bullet burning through Derek’s flesh, nailing him to the Stilinski’s couch to rest until the poison gets out of his system. Nothing deadly, still enough to have Stiles pacing through his living room, worry messing with his nerves.

 

“He’s gonna be okay,” Melissa tries to reassure Stiles one last time before leaving to go back to the hospital for her shift. “He just needs time to heal, and some rest.”

_Derek’s gonna be okay_ , Stiles repeats on loop in his head, hoping he’ll end up believing his own words, at some point. He really doesn’t look okay though, sweating and panting, lying on the couch barely conscious, turning from one side to another, unable to find a comfortable position, wolfsbane torturing him from inside out.

 

John brings clean towels and fresh water, like Melissa advised them to. He turns off the lamp on the side table, hoping Derek can take some rest, despite all the pain, but Derek grabs his hand and doesn’t let go.

“Please stay, please, dad,” Derek whines, eyes closed, hand tightening on John’s. Stiles’ head jolts at the words, meeting his dad’s gaze, both completely taken abash. Derek clings onto John, who ends up sitting beside him on the couch, while Stiles stands, not knowing what to do with himself. Derek looks so fragile, Stiles wishes he could do more than just watch and wait.

 

“It’s okay, son, you’re safe,” John says, patting Derek’s hair with his free hand, rocking him to sleep. His voice sounds like a lullaby Stiles thinks he remembers, and soon he falls back on his chair then slowly slides into sleep, starting to feel some clarity that everything was going to be alright, as his dad and Melissa promised.

 

Stiles wakes up not long after, awaken by the memory of the attack, of Derek being shot and everything going to shit. Derek seems asleep and his dad isn’t there anymore, so Stiles goes wandering around the house and finds him in the kitchen.

 

“Does he know how you feel about him?” John asks, keeping his voice down, preparing a new pot of coffee, thinking his son will refuse to go back to sleep until he’s absolutely certain Derek’s safe.

“What? I don’t- How do you?” Stiles babbles.

“I saw the way you look at him,” John smiles. That’s how my father used to look at my mother, and how I looked at your mom according to everybody around us, back then.”

 

It’s sad and sweet at the same time, thinking about his parents, young and falling in love. It’s how he likes to remember them, smiling, his mom laughing and a garden full of blossoming flowers. But flowers die and happiness dries and hope becomes a myth.

 

“He doesn’t know,” Stiles answers. How could he know, how could Stiles tell him, with everything always happening to them, how could he find the right time. How could they have a chance at making things work. He’s not even sure he has the energy to face a much probable rejection.

“I bet you don’t realize that he looks at you just the same,” John pours coffee into his son’s mug.

Stiles snorts. Not possible. He would’ve seen it. He’s a very observant person. He is.

 

“He does?” Stiles asks, small flame of hope sparking in his chest.

John smiles. His son is so smart for so many things, yet the simplest ones can fly right above his head sometimes.

 

-

 

When Derek wakes up, the house is quiet and it takes him a few minutes to collect his memories and remember why he’s on the Stilinskis’ couch. He keeps his eyes close, focusing on the sounds, picking up two sets of heartbeats, up the stairs. The sun is not completely up yet, it’s too early in the day and he should either go back to sleep or go home, then back to sleep in his own bed, but there’s a note on the coffee table, in Stiles’ handwriting.

“Don’t leave. Need to talk.” And it sounds so serious Derek wonders if there’s something he’s not remembering from last night, from the attack.

 

The door to Stiles’ room creaks when he opens it, making Stiles hum in his sleep, waking him up just enough to wave a hand at Derek and invite him to join him, in bed.

“Can you stop dying, at some point? Stiles whispers, not so asleep, as Derek lies next to him. “I don’t think my heart can handle one more night like this.”

“I don’t know, can _you_ stop poking sticks at demons and witches?

‘I never do that,” the sleepyness in Stiles’ voice barely covers his fake offended tone.

“Sure.”

“Yeah okay we’re screwed,” Stiles sighs.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Derek tries to stay cool but Stiles’ note is spinning in his head. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

Stiles nods. “Yes. And no.”

“Okay.”

Stiles opens his eyes again, caught in Derek’s gaze. “Don’t die.”

“You’ve said that.”

“Because I love you.”

Derek’s hand stills on Stiles’ arm and his heart is confused on whether it should freeze or go nuts.

“I should’ve said something before, but it was never the right time, and I was afraid you might not respond well. Or not respond at all, like you’re doing right now.” His voice goes raw and shaky and he moves to sit up.

“You just said-”

“Yes. It’s okay if you don’t say it back, you know, though I’ll need some time to adjust to-”

“I love you too.”

Stiles turns to look at Derek, and Derek can still smell the doubt all around him.

“Have been for a while,” he nods, answering Stiles’ unasked questions. “Like you said, it was never the right time. Or maybe I’m a coward.”

Stiles is smiling now, smelling of relief and blossoming bliss.

“You took a bullet for me, that’s not really cowardy.”

“I can’t lose you either, you know.”

Stiles nods, before leaning over Derek and pressing his lips against Derek’s mouth. “From now on, nobody’s losing anybody, okay?”

“Okay,” Derek says, raising a hand to cup Stiles’ jaw, kissing him back, a bit more deeply, a bit longer each time.

 

-

 

It takes Derek some time to call John “dad”, to trust that he and Stiles are steady enough to make the word his own without fear it might go away and carve a hole in his chest, once again.

 

But it’s okay because John is a patient man, who knows about trust and loss, who knows love when he sees it and boy does he see it when he looks at those kids.

 


End file.
